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Rating: Vasco Brondi had been eagerly anticipated here in Calabria. Two concerts canceled this summer (in Crotone and San Nicola Arcella), just as he was starting to make waves, followed by the Tenco Prize, television appearances, various awards, and recognitions. He was eagerly awaited, at least in that solid niche of fans of his music, those who found themselves in his lyrics, who shouted them at the top of their lungs, who had so assimilated them as to make them their own.
On December 28th in Rende, it is freezing cold. A few hours earlier, wandering between buildings inhabited by out-of-towners, amid dim neon lights and flashing signals, we caught sight of that urban provincial atmosphere that Vasco narrates and shouts about. It gets under our skin as we look at pits where they are building new buildings, bars closed at 9 PM, and park benches inhabited only by a few junkies...
At 11, Canali takes the stage and begins to tune his guitar, Vasco follows shortly after... the venue is full, 90% are university students, and it kicks off with "Lacrimogeni," the shouts advance "take me to drink from puddles" is shouted in chorus, Canali extends the tails of the songs with his acoustic, squeezing and stretching them, "Produzioni seriali di cieli stellati" with a beautiful almost shoegaze insert, "Piromani" stirs consciences, gaining courage verse after verse "let's turn this city into another damn city," then all the other tracks interspersed with Vasco's readings, bitten from his blog and book, spine-chilling narration and a guitar increasingly mistreated. Canali sings "100.000" and "Se viene il lupo", between verses Vasco inserts his stories and his electric guitar that even allows itself a solo, shouts that reach the heart and deeply move us... and what will we tell the children we won't have about these damn zero years... we will tell of the kilometers walked after the concert, the skyscrapers in full center, the still empty bars, those seeking refuge in a poorly filled sword and those dying at work, cranes decorated for the holidays, the thousand lights coloring the descending fog, our inner bombed cities that never sign a peace accord... we will tell all this... and we will never lose ourselves....
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